The violence rhyming right from our childhood in London bridges falling down and Jack breaking his crown and Jill tumbling after, taken to lecturehalls ( to podiums, our spaces of revenge and spite) teaching the art of articulation, grooming students like race horses, policing, reining, hoodwinking them to phatic dialogues and other hypocritical niceties of life. ie;how to smile and smile and be a villain

Then we etch their life on a graph with a curve, with a standard deviationHoping not to turn them deviant

Now, when we remember justthe visuals and muffles hidden in bookscaught up on saturdaysand evenings on weekdaysintellectual dates with bookshave also ended with a whinewith e media on our finger tipsPrint shipped away toshores of London mattersless and less,though a few dissent.Bibliophiles are numberedlike black strands onan octogenarian's head!!

This is the way an empire endsThis is the way the empire endsThis is the way empire ends'Not with a bang but a whimper!'

no fixéd plansno intentions to arriveyet, a travellerwriter of versesspringingfrom a superficial selfwordsjerk out in an tonguestrange to me.words paintconfusions of mindno fixéd trackspaths windinginto the labyrinthsof mind’s irresolutionsno pearls of wisdomjust letters, meaninglessscored on paperliving to tellthe pain of being.

Tuesday, January 01, 2008

the way you stab methen leave me at the mercyof the waveslapping on my toesspraying my brows withtears, and salti deserve it love, mea culpathe love hate you feel for meare like the dark circlesaround my once beautiful eyesbeauty veiled withdecay's shroud

booking countersreservationsblack tiles lined graya barking womanwith a computerendless travelsseasoning my fleshpickled in trains and trucksi take this violencewith a tenacitywith a wisdom:pound me with semenor emotions, its all the samei wear gold banglesafter five yearsand look at you with desire...

mea culpa i was bornmea culpa i belonged to youmea culpa for the promises sugar-coated with desire's edgemea culpa for the instincts mistaken as lovemea culpa for being the Jekyll-Hyde i have torn myselfmea culpa for the lonliness, sighs, wanderings of the mind, insipid dreams, desiresmea culpa for moments of sincerity for the tears for passion never disguised

VerveEarth

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About Me

Born in Kerala, South India, I took PhD in travel writing and gender studies from the University of Hyderabad and an M Phil in Art History and Aesthetics from the School of Languages, Jawaharlal Nehru University, New Delhi.
Poetry is my second love, after my real love and I have been writing and publishing in a steady trickle.
At present, I dedicate my time between teaching, researching, parenting and poetry.